


Fairway Gallows

by the_fluff_awakens



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Crack, M/M, Teen Wolf, Werewolf, and i mean line by line, and lando is his dad, because i am trash, except ben and hux, finn is a calrissian, first part's pretty innocent, it's the star wars teen wolf au nobody asked for, like seriously i don't think anybody would ask for this ever, poe is an angry angry man here, pretty much everyone is bi, rating is for safety, some scenes are plucked straight from the show, tagging as I go along, they gay as hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:57:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7347904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_fluff_awakens/pseuds/the_fluff_awakens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben Solo's quiet and boring life is about to get more interesting. When he ventures with his best friend, Finn, into the woods one night in search of a dead body, he gets attacked by some unknown creature and starts developing abilities no teenager should ever possess. His senses are heightened, and he's suddenly much less clumsy than he usually is. Despite the distraction of dead bodies, animal attacks, and lacrosse, Ben finds the arrival of the new kid, Hux, more interesting than anything else. Mostly because nothing new ever happens in this town, and not because the new kid is incredibly attractive. Definitely not.</p><p>Or the Star Wars Teen Wolf AU nobody asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Is it still considered a crossover fic if none of the characters from the other fandom is mentioned?

   
   
   
 

##  PROLOGUE

###  _(In Which A Creature Stalks Two Innocent Boys, And A Stranger Approaches Fairway Gallows)_

   
   
   
The creature stalks along the edge of the woods—back and forth on all fours—yellow eyes trained at the house this part of the forest borders. It is the only house visible for miles. There is another creature circling it, though this one walks on two legs and has considerably less hair. It is a human, male and young. Already the creature in the woods salivates at the thought of clamping its jaws around the smooth chocolate-toned skin on the human’s neck.

The human is closer to the house—bolder, perhaps. It stops on the east side, peeks in through the darkened window, before crouching and walking crab-like along the wall towards the front of the house. From behind a tree, the creature in the woods watches as the sneaking human drops something by the bushes in front of the open porch. He curses under his breath just as the porch light is turned on. The creature slinks deeper into the shadows as another human, tall and broad-shouldered, walks out onto the porch.

“Who’s there?” he calls out. His voice shakes, his brow sweats. “I have a gun.” He has a bat. He holds it with both hands in front of him, and already the creature knows a swing from that angle wouldn’t hurt anyone despite this human’s size.

“Ben!” The figure in the bushes jumps out right in front of him, and Ben swings his bat, hitting the bush-lurker’s left shoulder.

“ _Jesus Christ, Finn!_ ”

“ _What the hell, Ben!_ ”

“ _What are you doing?_ ”

“ _Why do you have a bat?_ ”

“ _I thought you were a predator! Why are you in my bushes?_ ”

“ _I dropped my keys!_ ”

“ _Why are we still yelling?_ ”

“ _I don’t know, I’m really hyped up right now!_ ”

The creature huffs hot air through its nose, paws stomping on the soft earth as he watches impatiently. These young men are idiots—he can tell from just five minutes of observation—but they are young and healthy. They will do.  
  


* * *

  
Not that far from the old house bordered by the woods, under the light of a gibbous moon half-hidden behind thick grey clouds, a sleek black roadster with its top down speeds towards the town of Fairway Gallows. Its driver’s bright ginger hair whips around his pale face, his fingers tapping in time to the music blaring from the car’s surround-sound amp. He barely registers the sign he drives past as he enters the town.

The wind howls in the night, the promise of an oncoming storm.  
  


* * *

  


##  Chapter 1

  


###  _(In Which Our Hero Almost Gets Killed Twice, The Stranger Enters The Town, And An Old Face Resurfaces)_

   
   
   
“Tell me again _exactly_ what you heard,” Ben demands. He’s grown irritable, as he usually does when driving with Finn, due to a number of reasons. Finn’s car is an old jeep that’s barely big enough to contain Ben, his gangly legs always needing to be folded uncomfortably, his knees touching the dashboard, his shoulders hunched. Finn is also an abysmal driver, taking turns almost belatedly, sending the poor dilapidated vehicle careening around corners. Finn, aside from being an awful driver, is also a rapid and often excitable talker.

“I _told_ you!” Finn answers exasperatedly. “My dad got a call from the station, and they said some joggers found a dead body in the woods. Somewhere–” he grips the steering wheel and makes a sharp left, causing Ben to grip the frame of the open passenger window– “around here.” Finn stomps his foot on the brake pedal, and Ben’s forehead slams on the dashboard.

“Goddamnit, Finn!” Ben growls, rubbing his forehead. “Either get a better car, or acquire better driving skills.”

“How ‘bout you get your own car? Hmm?” Finn scoffs when they meet in front of the car. “How ‘bout that, Solo?”

“Whatever, what are we even doing here?” Ben raises his arms over his head then bends his back, groaning in pleasure when his joints crack. “If someone already found the body, the place would be crawling with deputies by now. Your dad’s going to kill us if he catches us sneaking around a crime scene.”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Finn turns to him with a devilish smirk, eyes glinting mischievously as he snaps the lapels of the black blazer he wore over his grey hoodie. “They only found _half_ an old man’s dead body.”

Ben’s eyes grow wide, his mouth falling open as Finn turns around with a satisfied grin and starts walking towards the forest. Ben follows behind, zipping his thick red sweater and pulling the hood up, his long legs making it easy for him to catch up.

“Wait, which part?” Ben asks as they enter the woods.

“What?”

“ _Which_ part are we looking for? Because I’m not sure I want to see a dead man’s junk.”

That stops Finn in his tracks and he turns to Ben with a horrified expression on his face.

“Oh god, I didn’t even think of that.”

“Shut up!” Ben hisses suddenly, dropping on his knees and pulling Finn down with him. They crawl on their stomachs to watch several deputies, some accompanied by dogs, gathering a few feet away.

“I can’t see anything,” Finn complains. “Let’s get a closer look.”

He gets on his feet, but keeps low, creeping closer to the crowd. Ben follows reluctantly, knowing all too well that his bulk is so much easier to spot than Finn’s. He watches as Finn gets closer and closer, then clamps his hand over his face as a huge German shepherd lunges for Finn, its sharp teeth bared as it barks loudly.

“Aaaaaah!” Finn screams, as he falls on his back. His arms reach up to protect his face, but the dog doesn’t get close enough to bite him. The deputy holding its leash tugs it back, shining a flashlight on Finn’s face.

“Hold on!” A familiar voice calls, and Ben jumps behind a nearby tree. “This one’s mine.”

Sheriff Lando Calrissian stands next to the deputy looking down at his son, his hands on his hips. Even from afar, Ben can tell he’s pissed.

“What the hell are you doing here, son?” Lando asks. Ben ducks behind the tree when Lando’s head snaps up and he looks around with narrowed eyes. “Where’s Ben?”

“What do you mean where’s Ben?” Finn asks, unconvincingly. “He’s home! I came here alone.”

“Mmhmm,” Ben hears Lando answer. “BEN! _BEEEN!_ ”

Ben shuts his eyes, reverting to his childhood belief of ‘if you can’t see them, they can’t see you.’ He holds his breath and waits, his fists clenched as he wraps his arms around his stomach. Finally, he hears Finn yelp.

“I’m taking you back to your car and you’re driving straight home,” Lando says, and Ben can practically see him holding his son by the scruff of his neck like he used to when they were little kids.

“Yes, sir,” Finn mutters apologetically.

Ben waits a few more minutes before moving from his spot. Great, now he has to walk all the way back home. Sometimes he wonders why he lets Finn talk him into his harebrained schemes.

He takes the path back to where Finn parked his car, hoping that he can somehow intercept him before he gets too far and leaves him behind. His house isn’t that far from here, but tomorrow is the first day of school—which means lacrosse practice—and he plans on actually getting to play this year. He’s been working out a lot more this past summer, pushing his body until he has to stop or reach for his inhaler. He’s also been practicing shooting goals with Finn, though he doubts it’ll do either of them any good. Finn is a lousy goalie, and every shot Ben makes against him is mostly due to his lack of coordination than to Ben’s precision.

He doesn’t get that far before he’s huffing, the excitement from his house up to Finn’s near-mauling about to cause an asthma attack. He reaches inside his jeans’ pocket for his inhaler, looking down and growing impatient when his overly large hand gets caught on its way out. He finally tugs it free, breathing a sigh of relief as he brings the inhaler up to his mouth and depresses the canister. He holds his breath as he continues walking, but his foot catches on something and he falls on his hands and knees, causing him to release his breath. He pushes off of the ground and sits back on his ankles, fishing his phone out of the pocket of his sweater and activating the flashlight. He sweeps it in front of him to check what caused his fall and finds—

“ _Aaaaaah!_ ” 

He falls on his ass in his haste to get away from the dead body. Or, to be more precise, the upper half of a naked dead body. He scrambles backwards, kicking his feet out and keeping his eyes on the old man’s milky ones. He finally gets to his feet, his knees shaking. He’s dangerously close to throwing up. He looks around him to check if the deputies are on their way, and that’s when he spots it.

A few meters from where he’s standing, a pair of bright red eyes is trained on him. It’s too dark for Ben to see more than those red dots, but he catches a glimpse of a furry black hulking body when he shines his phone in its direction. It looks like it’s standing on two legs, but is slouched so low, it might as well be on all fours. Ben is frozen in his spot, afraid to make any sudden movements. He doesn’t want that thing to chase him. He backs away slowly when steam blows out of where the creature’s mouth must be, and a twig snaps.

The creature lunges, and Ben turns around and books it.

He has no idea where he’s going, his mind a jumble as he kicks his feet at the ground as hard as he can. He’s gotten all turned around, and suddenly, the woods seem unfamiliar and every tree looks the same. Branches scratch at his face, but he barely notices because all he can focus on is the sound of heavy paws padding after him. Too fast, it’s going to catch up on him. He knows he shouldn’t, every movie he’s ever watched has taught him not to, but he looks back over his shoulder anyway. He slows down just a little when he realizes the creature isn’t behind him anymore, and that’s when something big and solid tackles him from the side.

His mind goes blank. He doesn’t even know what’s happening, but his arms are punching anything they can reach, and his feet are kicking anything they can hit. Vaguely, he feels something resembling pain on his side, but he doesn’t pay attention to it. He pulls his legs back against his chest and kicks as hard as he can, hitting something soft, and for once, he’s thankful that he has such long legs. The creature flies off of him, and he opens his eyes— _his eyes were closed?_ —in time to see it hit a nearby tree. He pushes himself off the ground and starts running again, keeping his eyes straight ahead this time.

His feet hit pavement, and suddenly he’s standing on a road, and his right side hurts like hell. He looks down to check on it, sees blood pooling on his sweater, before he’s deafened by the sound of a car horn. He raises his head just as a pair of bright headlights swerves on the empty road, narrowly avoiding him. The sleek black car slows down when it’s back on the right side of the road, but doesn’t stop. 

Nearly getting into a car accident somehow doesn’t feel as terrifying as what he’d just gone through, and he walks in a daze, clutching his side. He gets home somehow, and he doesn’t know if he should be thankful that the house is empty. On the one hand, his mother is a nurse, and he needs to get his stomach checked. On the other hand, his mother is terrifying, and she is going to kick his ass and ground him for the rest of his life if she saw him right now.

He walks up to his bedroom and heads straight for his bathroom. He flips the light on and pulls off his sweater and shirt in one movement. His eyes widen as he looks at his reflection. His skin is pale, his eyes look wild, and there are leaves and twigs stuck to his long unruly hair. Most disturbing is the unmistakable mark of a bite just below his ribs. A bite from something huge—its mouth must have been bigger than Ben’s face. He toes his shoes off and winces as he bends at the waist to step out of his pants and boxers. He only hopes that thing doesn’t have rabies. He’ll have Luke check on it tomorrow when he comes in for work.

After taking a shower, he grabs the first aid kit under the sink. He dresses his wounds—the bite, as well as the many scratches on his face, hands and arms—then puts on a clean shirt and boxers. The night has suddenly gotten hot, and he’d rather sleep shirtless, but he can’t risk his mom coming in to check on him when she gets home and seeing the bandage over his ribs. He hides his bloody clothes under his bed, resolving to wash them tomorrow before his mom finds them, and collapses into bed, his whole body aching. He’s going to kill Finn tomorrow.  
  


* * *

  
Hux’s fingers tap on the steering wheel as the girl on the radio sings about dragging her teeth across someone’s chest to taste their heart. He opens his mouth to sing along to the chorus just as a dark figure appears on the road out of nowhere.

“ _Fuck!_ ”

He grips the wheel, turning it to the left just in time to avoid hitting the guy. It’s a good thing there isn’t any traffic on this road. The guy had been looking down, wasn’t even paying attention, and had only looked up to see the car swerving away from him. _Fucking crazy townies,_ Hux thinks as he slows down and gets back on the right lane. He looks at the rearview mirror to check that the guy is okay. He doesn’t stop because of the different scenarios his father used to paint for him. He used to tell Hux not to stop for anything when he’s driving down deserted roads—not for a stopped car emitting smoke, not for a prone body on the ground—but to call 911 or the local police station for help.

The guy on the road seems to be okay, apart from obviously being stupid and having what appears to be a death wish, so he doesn’t think he needs to call the cops.

“ _Mrow?_ ”

He looks down to see his cat, Millicent, unfurling from inside her carrier. She seems upset at being jostled from her sleep.

“I’m sorry, Mill,” he mutters, reaching down and scratching under the cat’s chin with his index finger through the grates. “There was an idiot on the road.”

He turns his attention back on the road, noting the dark grey clouds overhead. From the looks of it, Fairway Gallows must be a wet and gloomy place, and this observation is coming from someone who grew up in London and then moved to New York. Phasma never mentioned that in her emails when she’d invited him to come stay with her after his mum died, but really, what did he expect from a town with a name like that? He recalls the argument he had had with his father when he’d informed him he wasn’t going back to London. After the divorce, there wasn’t even any discussion as to which parent he was going to live with, but after the accident, Hux Sr. had just assumed he’d come home. He’s 17, and legally, his father could have forced him to move back, but in a surprising plot twist, he had allowed Hux to live with his cousin to finish out high school in the US. Hux had almost flown back to London just to spite him.

He pushes the button to close the top of the car when thick trees turn into houses, and then restaurants and bars. He unlocks his phone to recheck the address Phasma gave him, and finds her apartment with no difficulty. 

Hux takes a deep breath before stepping out of his car, and into his new life.  
  


* * *

  
“Lemme’ see, lemme’ see, lemme’ see!”

Finn is practically bouncing on his feet when they meet up in the parking lot the following day. Ben hasn’t even gotten off his bike yet, and Finn is already giving him a headache. He locks his bike on the rack and heads for the main building, ignoring Finn, who’s practically vibrating right now.

“Come on, Ben! Lemme’ see it!” Finn grabs his arm and stops him just before they reach the steps that lead up to the school entrance. People walking behind them give them dirty looks.

“Fine!” He lifts up his shirt, revealing the gauze taped to his side. A little blood has seeped out of it. Finn’s hand inches forward, wanting a closer look. “Hey, watch it!” Ben pulls his shirt back down, leaving Finn disappointed.

“So what do you think it was that attacked you, anyway?”

“I don’t know, it was something canine,” Ben says, his brow furrowing. He doesn’t say the first thing that popped into his head when he first caught a glimpse of the creature.

“What, like a police dog?” Finn pushes.

“No, it was definitely bigger than that one that almost mauled you.”

“Okay, first of all,” Finn says, raising his index finger, “shut up about that. Second of all, a Rottweiler?”

“No, bigger! Like a…like a wolf.”

“Pffft! Couldn’t have been.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t you ever pay attention in class? There are no wolves in Fairway Gallows.”

“I definitely heard a howl last night,” Ben insists, somewhat affronted that Finn isn’t buying his wolf theory. He definitely won’t believe his initial theory, then.

“Dogs howl, too, Ben,” Finn says, rolling his eyes. “You must have just imagined it was a wolf.”

“Kinda’ like how I imagined seeing half a dead man’s body right before I saw the wolf?”

The effect is instantaneous. Finn’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open as he grabs Ben’s arm.

“No shit?! Are you serious? Oh my god, this is the best thing that’s ever happened in Fairway Gallows since…since…” Finn trails off, looking for the right word just as Rey Martin walks past. “The birth of Rey Martin. Hi, Rey!”

Ben snorts when Rey, busy talking to another girl, ignores Finn. Finn turns away from him and follows Rey up the steps wordlessly. Ben shakes his head and follows behind.

“Anyway,” Finn says when they take their seats in English, like he wasn’t just ignoring Ben so he can stare at the back of Rey’s neck in the corridor. “We’re definitely going back there this afternoon. Right? I swear, if you don’t–“

“Yeah, alright,” Ben agrees, nodding his head. “I dropped my inhaler and my mom is going to kill me if she has to buy me a new one.”

“Sure, whatever. Then we look for the body.”

Somebody’s phone suddenly starts ringing loudly, causing Ben to plug his ears with his fingers. He looks around to glare at whoever owns it, maybe tell them to lower the volume of their ring tone, but no one seems to be reaching for their phone. Mr. Krennic doesn’t seem to be glaring at anyone either, and he’s known for hating cellphones in class.

“ _Yes, I got here just fine, Father,_ ” he hears a voice say. It’s clipped and smooth, with an English accent.

Ben looks out the window to find a skinny red-haired boy sitting on a stone bench in front of the parking lot. His shoulder is pressing his phone against his ear as he fishes for something in his bag. 

Was that his phone Ben could hear ringing? From all the way out there? For that matter, how can Ben even hear what the guy is saying?

“ _Because I got here late, and I didn’t have the energy to call. Ugh! And now I’ve lost my pencil._ ”

The boy starts walking briskly towards the school steps, and Ben loses sight of him. Ben looks around the classroom, wondering if anyone else heard this conversation, but everyone seems oblivious to it. He looks over his shoulder at Finn, who mouths, ‘ _what?_ ’, before looking back at the board where Mr. Krennic is writing the title of the first book they’ll be discussing this semester. 

There’s a knock on the door before Vice Principal Daniels opens it and ushers the red-haired boy inside.

“Ah, our late addition,” Mr. Krennic says, nodding at Mr. Daniels.

The boy hands something to Mr. Krennic and looks up at the blackboard awkwardly. Ben can’t help but stare. The boy’s hair is so vibrant, it’s almost orange. His skin is pale, peppered with light freckles. He has blue eyes, a perfectly proportioned nose that’s obviously never been punched, and pink full lips Ben wouldn’t mind getting acquainted with. His brow is furrowed into a scowl. Ben thinks he’s beautiful, and suddenly gets an urge to bite his face. 

Ben lets his eyes trail down the boy’s long and lithe body. The boy is tall, probably just a couple of inches shorter than Ben. He’s wearing a white button down shirt and a red tie underneath a grey v-neck sweater and a pair of dark grey tailored pants. His matching dark grey blazer is open, and he starts fiddling with its cuffs as he waits for Mr. Krennic to give him instructions. On his feet is a pair of black leather shoes. 

Ben looks down at his own ensemble: dirty sneakers, tattered jeans, a grey undershirt and a black zip up hoodie. He picks at the mustard stain on the hem of his shirt, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Alright, Brendol, have a seat.”

“It’s Hux,” the boy snaps irritably, before catching himself. “Sorry, I prefer Hux, Sir.”

“Noted,” Mr. Krennic answers. He gestures to the back of the class.

 _Oh, shit._ Ben sits up when he realizes that the only empty seat is the one behind his. He starts chewing on his bottom lip as the boy’s leather satchel brushes against his knee when he passes him. Ben waits until the boy is settled behind him, takes a deep breath then turns in his seat. Without saying a word, he passes Hux his extra pencil.

The corner of his mouth twitches into a lopsided smile as Hux’s brow furrows in confusion before taking the pencil.

“Thanks,” Hux says, giving him a suspicious look.

“Welcome,” Ben answers, turning back around. He can feel his whole face flushing, and he turns to Finn with a full-blown grin when he senses his best friend staring.

Finn just rolls his eyes at him and shakes his head.  
  


* * *

  
“Alright, you good for nothing little twerps!” Coach Chewie yells, addressing the team standing around him. Chewie isn’t his actual name, but no student knows his real name, and none of the teachers answer when asked what it is.

The coach is an extremely tall, extremely hirsute man, who has a penchant for yelling everything he says so that people who don’t know him think he’s perpetually angry (not to say that he isn’t angry most of the time, especially when talking to his students). He’s also always chewing on a peppermint (hence, the nickname), making him almost unintelligible to most people. Sometimes, he gets so caught up in berating his team that he chokes on his candy, and he has to make this gargling noise to dislodge it from his throat.

“I am sick and tired of losing to that bunch of sissy-ass prep school boys over at Briar Patch Academy! What the hell kind of a school name is that, anyway? It makes them sound like a bunch of Cabbage Patch kids! And you idiots can’t even manage to…”

Ben tunes him out when Finn starts whispering frantically in his ear.

“Okay, so after practice, where going to look for the old man, right? Because I pretty much have not been able to think about anything else for the entire day, and it’s all your fault.”

“How is it _my_ fault?” Ben hisses. “You were the one who wanted to go looking for it last night. You were the one who got caught by the sheriff because you just _had to_ get a closer look. Anyway, shut up, I want to pay attention to Coach.”

“Why?” Finn asks, genuinely confused.

“What do you mean ‘why’? Because I’m going to actually play this year.”

“But…” Finn’s face falls, and he pulls an expression Ben has only ever seen on the faces of the puppies he stares at when he’s working. “But if you’re playing, who am I going to talk to on the bench? Are you honestly going to leave your best friend hanging like that?”

Coach Chewie claps his hands and the students run off, forming a line at the end of the field. Ben and Finn are the only ones left standing by the bench, not knowing what to do.

“Solo!” Ben turns around just in time to catch the goalie stick and helmet the coach tosses his way. “You’re playing goalie today.”

“But Coach,” Ben starts to protest. “I’ve never played.”

“Exactly. The boys need a little ego boost to start the year. It’s a first day back thing. Get them energized. Fired up!”

“What about me?”

“Try not to take any in the face,” Chewie smiles, taps Ben’s face once then turns to face the field.

Ben walks dejectedly towards the goal, stopping between the posts, and looking at the long line of guys across the field. They’re all stretching and cracking their necks. He throws Finn an uneasy look, who smiles at him encouragingly on his way to sit on the bench. Ben looks at the crowd, which suddenly seems too large for a first-day-back practice, and spots Rey dragging a scowling Hux towards the bleachers. Great. Now the new kid is going to watch him make a fool of himself.

“ _Who is that?_ ”

Ben hears Hux ask Rey.

“ _Him? I’m not sure. Why?_ ”

He looks over to see Rey watching him, her little face scrunched up against the afternoon sun. Not for the first time that day, he wonders how he can hear a conversation from that far away.

“ _He’s in my English class,_ ” Hux answers, shrugging his shoulder just as the assistant coach, Arthur, blows on his whistle, _loud_.

It’s too loud and piercing, and Ben has to cover his ears with his gloved hands, the stick knocking onto the side of his helmet and making him slightly dizzy. He bends at the waist, sees grass, and realizes what he’s doing. He looks back up just in time to see a midfielder, Mitaka running down the field, and before Ben can fully straighten up, the ball is zooming for his face. It hits him right in front of his eye, the helmet’s grills ensuring that he doesn’t end up needing an eye patch. The impact and his still disoriented state sends him reeling back, knocking him on his back inside the goal.

He hears the entire team laughing, even Chewie, who then calls out, “I told you not to take any in the face, Solo!”

He feels his face burning up as he gets up and looks over at Finn on the bench. Finn’s hands are covering his face, one eye peeking from behind his fingers.

An attacker named Janus starts running towards the field, and Ben holds his goalie stick in front of him, his hands pointed forward, bending his knees. He doesn’t stand a chance against an attacker, but he’s determined to at least stay on his feet. He keeps his eyes on the ball in Janus’ stick, notices when he stops to wind up his shot, and somehow, Ben just knows that the ball is going to fly towards his right shoulder. He quickly steps to his right, left foot following instantly, and twists the stick in his hand, effectively catching the ball.

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, and there’s a beat of stunned silence before he hears Finn cheer uncertainly from the bench. The guys in line are looking at him like he’s grown two heads, and Chewie looks like he’s choking on his candy again. He drops the ball on the grass and watches Arthur flick his stick to toss a ball to Ezra, the usual goalie.

Again, Ben’s eyes follow the ball, notes how Ezra switches hands before taking a low shot. He bends his left knee, blocking the ball. This time, Finn whoops from his seat, as some people in the crowd clap their hands.

He stops Wexley’s, and then Kaplan’s shots, and that’s when he hears Hux and Rey again.

“ _I don’t know much about this game, but he seems like he’s pretty good._ ”

“ _Yeah, quite good._ ”

He smiles widely at that, jumping in place and shaking his arms to release the adrenaline that’s suddenly coursing through his body. Teedo is about to step up when Caleb, the captain and the best attacker in the team, taps him on the shoulder with his stick. Ben watches as Teedo steps back, and swallows nervously when he sees the determined and almost angry look on Caleb’s face as he nods at Arthur. A hush falls on the crowd as Caleb is passed a ball and he starts to run.

“Oh god,” Ben mutters under his breath. Caleb is known not only for his speed and grace, but for his accuracy as well. He has to remind himself to stop watching in awe of Caleb’s agility, to focus on the ball and not let fear distract him as the captain jumps in the air, right leg kicking up for maximum power, and winds his stick over his shoulder before shooting.

Ben twists his stick upside down, planting it firmly on the ground between his feet and catching the ball just in time.

The crowd goes nuts, jumping from their seats and cheering excitedly. Finn is bouncing in front of the bench, hysterically screaming, “That’s my best friend! Whoo!”

Ben looks over at the bleachers to find Rey cheering on her feet, eyebrows defiantly raised at Caleb, who’s glaring at her. Hux is still seated, but his eyes are focused on Ben, and he’s smiling widely. Ben can’t help showing off. He turns around, flipping his stick over his shoulder and letting the ball fly straight into the pocket of Arthur’s stick. He smirks at the incredulous look on the assistant coach’s face.  
  


* * *

  
“I don’t know what happened,” Ben says excitedly as he leads Finn back to the spot where he found the body in the forest. “It just felt like the ball wasn’t even moving that fast, and I knew exactly where it was going to fly. And it’s not just that.”

He splashes across a small stream, his sneakers getting the only washing they’re ever going to get, and ducks under a low branch. Finn is following behind, having a hard time keeping up, what with Ben’s long legs and excitement.

“I can hear things I shouldn't even be able to hear, I can smell stuff.”

“Smell stuff?” Finn looks at him dubiously. “Like what?”

“Like…” Ben takes a deep breath and stops in his tracks, turning around to face Finn. “That nasty cinnamon roll gum in your pocket.”

“I don’t even have any–“ Finn mutters, patting his jacket’s breast pocket. His brow furrows when his pocket makes a crinkling sound. He reaches in and pulls out half a stick of gum.

Ben shrugs when Finn gives him a weird look, and turns back around to start walking again.

“Okay, and this all started with a bite.” Finn still sounds doubtful.

“What if it’s some sort of infection? What if my body’s just being flooded with adrenaline before I go into shock.”

“Why don’t you have your mom check on it then?”

“Are you kidding me? Do you not know my mother?”

“Yeah, fair point. But you know what, I think I may have heard of this. It’s a specific kind of infection.”

“Are you serious?” Ben stops walking again, facing Finn.

“Yeah. I think it’s called… _lycanthropy_.”

Oh god. Is he dying? Ben can feel the panic rising in his chest.

“What’s that? Is that bad?”

“Oh yeah, it’s the worst. But only once a month.”

Okay, that does not sound right. 

“Once a month?” Ben has a feeling Finn is making fun of him again.

“Mhmm. On the night of the full moon.” Finn grins, wiggling his eyebrows. And then he howls.

“Shut up!” Ben shoves his shoulder, and he laughs, flailing his arms to avoid falling on the ground.

“Well, you _said_ you heard a wolf howling.”

“Finn! There could be something seriously wrong with me.”

“I know! You’re a _werewolf!_ Argh! Grr!” Finn curls his fingers and starts scratching at the air and Ben seriously considers punching him on the mouth. Finn drops his hands at the sight of Ben’s face. “I’m kidding. Sheesh! But if you see me in shop trying to melt all the silver in the room, it’s because Friday’s a full moon.”

Ben stops walking again, this time looking around at the ground.

“Dude, I could’ve sworn this was where the body was. I was a little disoriented, but I’m pretty sure this was where I dropped my inhaler.” He crouches low on the ground, moving leaves around to check if his inhaler is hidden under them.

“Maybe the killer moved the body?” Finn suggests.

“Well, if he did, I hope he left my inhaler,” Ben says dejectedly. “Those things cost like 80 bucks.”

Finn snorts, then steps back, tapping Ben’s shoulder. He stands up and turns around to look at what startled Finn. A guy with dark wavy curls, deep set eyes and a thick beard is standing a few feet away from them, watching them with a scowl on his face. His hands are shoved inside the pockets of his brown leather jacket.

“What are you kids doing here?” The man stomps closer to them, and Finn takes a step back. “This is private property.”

“Sorry, man,” Finn says, raising his hands in front of his chest. “We didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” Ben says, scowling. “We were just looking for something, but…forget it.”

The guy raises his eyebrows like he thinks Ben is stupid, which he probably does. Then without saying a word, he takes one hand out of his jacket pocket and tosses Ben his inhaler before walking away.

Ben scoffs, pocketing his inhaler and turning around. “Okay, I gotta’ get to work.”

“Dude, that’s Poe Dameron,” Finn hisses under his breath, pulling on Ben’s shoulder. “You remember what happened to him? What happened to his family, right?”

Ben shrugs and starts walking, knowing Finn is going to follow him anyway. “No, what happened to them?”

“They all burned to death in a fire about ten years ago.”

“So what’s he doing back?” Ben asks.

“How should I know?” Finn asks, sounding uninterested, but looking over his shoulder at Poe’s retreating form.

“Come on, hurry up,” Ben says, grabbing Finn’s shoulder and walking faster. “Uncle Luke needs me to close up the clinic tonight.”

  
  


* * *

  
   
   
   



	2. Chapter 2

   
   
   


##  Chapter 2

###  _(In Which Our Hero Saves A Cat, Gets One Of His Heart’s Desires, And Destroys His Best Friend’s Furniture)_

   
   
   
“So how was your first day of school, sweetie?” Phasma asks over the phone on his bed. Hux has her on speaker, as he needs both hands to unpack.

He rolls his eyes at her condescending tone. She’s only 22, a mere five years older than he is, but she loves rubbing it in his face. Her height and build make her appear a lot older, too, but Hux knows that anyone who spent an hour with his cousin would think she was the same age as he is, perhaps even younger. 

“It was perfectly fine,” he answers, grunting as he picks up a box of his stuff from the floor of his new bedroom and drops it on his new desk.

“Have you made friends yet?” Hux can hear clinking bottles in the background, and he checks the time to make sure she hasn’t started her ten o’clock shift yet. She works as a bartender at a place called The Falcon, but her shift doesn’t start for another hour. Really, she doesn’t need the work, her family’s loaded, but she says it’s ‘to keep up appearances.’

“There’s this one girl, Rey,” he starts, grabbing several books from the box and arranging them neatly on the bookshelves by his door. “A bit blunt, but seems nice enough. She forced me to watch a _team sport._ ” He says the last two words like they’re something filthy.

“I like her already,” Phasma says, chuckling.

“Do you know anything about lacrosse?” He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly interested in a game where people run around brandishing sticks with mesh pockets, tossing about a tiny ball.

“Not a lot, no, but the town gets pretty into it. Why?” Her voice pitches up at the end, like a fisherman who’s hooked onto something.

“No reason.” He tries to make his voice sound as nonchalant as possible. “I just didn’t understand much of it. Just a bunch of guys and too many flying balls.”

“Bet you loved that,” Phasma snorts.

“I resent your implication. A guy from my first and last period was playing goalie today, and he seemed pretty good, that’s all.”

“Ooh! A _guy,_ you say?” And that’s the sound of her reeling him in. “Tell me about this _guy_ then.”

“There’s nothing to tell, re–“

Hux stops rummaging through his box when he hears Millicent whimpering under the bed. He gets down on his knees, moving the covers out of the way, and finds her dry heaving, body low on the ground, fur extra poofy. Her pupils are blown wide, her ears flattened.

“ _Sweetie? Are you still there?_ ”

“Oh my god, Millie. What did you eat this time?” He pulls her out from under the bed gently, growing more panicked when she doesn’t even put up a fight. She normally doesn’t like being carried, but she just keeps hacking and pawing at her mouth.

“Phas, Millie’s choking on something. Shit! Can you send me the address of that animal clinic you told me about?”

“Okay, just get to your car and drive, I’ll send it right now. It’s not that far.”

The line goes dead, and Hux grabs his phone from the bed then shoves it in his pocket. He puts Millie inside one of the empty boxes, wanting to give her more space than her carrier would allow, tosses his jacket over it, and carries it out of the apartment. He’s thankful that Phasma’s unit is only on the third floor. He takes the steps two at a time, not wanting to wait for the elevator, and runs out of the door towards his parking spot. It’s raining heavily, and he’s soaked by the time he reaches his car. 

“It’s okay, Millie, you’ll be okay,” he mumbles, even as tears start to form in his eyes. His phone buzzes in his pocket just as he’s put Millie’s box in the passenger seat. He reads the address before starting the car and peeling out of the parking lot.

“Perfect,” he says, groaning as heavy rain pelts his windshield. He slows down a little and reminds himself it’ll take longer to get Millie to the vet if they get into an accident. He moves the jacket to check on her and bites his lip to stop from crying when her whole body jerks with each dry cough. Mercifully, there isn’t any traffic, and he’s pulling up in front of the clinic before long.

“Oh, no, no, no!” He jumps out of his car and stares incredulously at the ‘closed’ sign hanging on the clinic’s door. Animal clinics really should be open 24 hours a day.

He runs to the door, not even bothering to close his car door, and starts banging on the glass.

“Hello! Please! I need help!” He ignores the tears streaming down his face, he can just pretend they’re droplets of rain. “Please, open up!”

* * *

  
Ben looks out at the street before locking the clinic’s front door and flipping the ‘closed’ sign. Luke had left almost as soon as he’d arrived, instructing Ben to give him a call if something came up that he couldn’t handle himself. Ben didn’t ask where he was running off to, he’s gotten used to his uncle disappearing for days at a time. Thankfully, the night has been pretty quiet. A guy came in with a dog that needed a leg brace, and a lady who needed help getting her parrot to take its medicine.

After turning off the lights in the waiting area, he goes to the back to get some gauze and antiseptic to redress his stomach wounds. He hasn’t shown it to Luke yet, and he can only hope he doesn’t die from it tonight. He knows he really should have changed the dressing after practice, but he got distracted, and Finn kept pestering him to hurry up so they could go look for the dead body again.

He takes a mirror from one of the cupboards and props it against the wall before lifting his shirt and slowly removing the bandage taped to his side. He furrows his brow and leans closer to the mirror, then looks down at his stomach. His clean smooth stomach.

“What the f–“

Someone starts banging at the front door, yelling at the top of their lungs for help. He runs out and stops abruptly, almost tripping on his feet when he sees Hux crying in the rain, the skin around his eyes red and raw. He’s no longer wearing the grey vest and tie, and the white button down is clinging to his body. Ben kicks himself mentally for noticing this when the guy is so obviously in distress and hurries to the door.

“What’s wrong?” he asks even before he’s turned all the locks. “Are you okay?”

“It’s my cat,” Hux says frantically, running back to his car and yanking the passenger door open. “He’s choking on something.”

By the time Ben is able to open the door, Hux is already walking back, holding up a small packing box covered with his blazer. Ben takes it from him, tells him to lock his car and follow him inside. He lifts the blazer from the box and hangs it over his shoulder so he can look down at the wheezing ginger tabby inside. Vaguely, he thinks about pets resembling their owners as he walks to the back room and places the box down on the silver table.

Hux runs in, soaked and shaking, stuffing his keys in his pants. “Is she going to be okay?” he asks, sniffling.

“Do you know what she’s choking on?” Ben takes the cat out of box and lays it gently on its side on the table. “What’s her name?”

“I don’t know, I was unpacking boxes, I didn’t see.” Hux’s voice is shaking, but whether it’s from the cold or nerves, Ben can’t tell. “Mill…Millicent.”

“Okay, it’s okay,” Ben says soothingly, both to Millicent and Hux. He bends at the waist and gently opens the cat’s mouth, tugging her little tongue out to check her throat. He spots something sparkly and tries to reach in with his finger. Millicent makes a low gurgling sound, and Hux sobs, walking closer to the table but keeping his hands wrapped around his waist.

“Please don’t let her die,” he begs. “Please, she’s…I can’t…my mom’s cat. She’s my mom’s cat.”

“She’s not going to die, don’t worry.”

Ben gives up trying to pull the thing out of Millicent’s throat. Instead, he puts his right hand on her back, and the other on her stomach. He pushes on her stomach gently but firmly, repeating it a few times until the cat gives one hard cough and something clatters on the table. Ben and Hux huddle closer, looking down at the object: a thin silver diamond encrusted ring.

“Whoa.”

Ben looks up, expecting to find Hux relieved and smiling. Instead, his face is even more scrunched up, one hand flat on his stomach while the other covers his mouth. Ben’s eyes widen as more tears pour down his face and fingers, the hand over his mouth doing nothing to muffle his sobs.

“Hey, it’s okay. She’s okay now. See?” Millicent is now on all fours, eyes still dilated, but now able to breathe freely.

“That’s…that ring’s…my mom’s,” Hux says, the hand over his mouth reaching for the ring. It stops a few inches from it, but Ben knows it’s not from disgust.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean to leave it lying around,” Ben says, taking the ring and rinsing it in the sink behind him. When he turns back around, Hux is hugging the cat to his chest, burying his face in its fur.

“She’s dead,” Hux mutters flatly against Millicent’s neck.

 _Oh shit._ No wonder he’s so torn up. His mom’s cat, his mom’s ring. He has no idea what to do or say right now. Does he comfort him? Pat his shoulder?

“I’m sorry,” he says weakly instead. He walks to the other side of the table to stand next to Hux and hand him back the ring. All of a sudden, the fur on Millicent’s back stands on end, and she hisses at him as she huddles closer to Hux’s chest.

“What the hell, Millie?” Hux asks, his arms tightening around her body to keep her from jumping out of his arms. “What the hell is wrong with you? This guy just saved your life, you ungrateful little shit.”

Ben can’t help but laugh. A few minutes ago, Hux was begging him not to let this cat die, and now he’s calling it a little shit.

“I gotta say, Millie,” Ben says, placing the ring down on the table in front of Hux. “Most animals like me, and you’re really hurting my feelings right now.”

Hux grunts as he wrestles Millicent back into her box. She immediately slinks to the corner, eyes watching Ben warily, whiskers twitching forward.

“I’m sorry,” Hux says, taking the blazer from Ben’s shoulder and covering the box with it. He takes the ring from the table, shoves it inside his front pocket, and starts shivering violently. “Holy shit, it’s cold in here,” he says, like he’s just noticed. His teeth start rattling like scrabble tiles.

“It’s those wet clothes,” Ben says, his eyes looking down at Hux’s chest. “I have a clean towel and a sweater in my bag.”

“That’s okay, I don’t want–“ Hux stops talking when a violent shiver runs through his entire body, and he looks up at Ben in embarrassment. “On second thought…”

Ben laughs and grabs his bag from under the table, pulling out the sweater as well as his unused gym towel and handing them to Hux. Who proceeds to pull his shirt off right then and there, _holy shit!_ Ben diverts his eyes, then immediately feels stupid. He watches from the corner of his eyes, fascinated by Hux’s slight frame and the way it shakes from the cold as he uses the towel to wipe his chest, arms and back. His shoulders are incredibly freckly, and Ben thinks his fingers would overlap if he wraps his hands around that waist. Hux pulls the sweater on, then proceeds to rub the towel over his hair.

“Thanks,” Hux says, handing the towel back and Ben jerks back, like he’s been caught doing something wrong, before he catches himself and grabs it. He watches as Hux rubs his face with his hands, wiping the tears off with the sleeves of Ben’s favorite sweater. His eyelashes are practically transparent, Ben notes dazedly. “This is embarrassingly big on me,” Hux says, rolling the sleeves a couple of times. The neck of the sweater almost slides down his shoulders.

“You look cute,” Ben says, to his horror. His eyes widen when Hux’s brow furrows before looking down at his feet. He wants to say something, anything, to take it back or erase it from the air, but too much time has passed and he’s now just wishing the ground would open up and eat him alive.

“How much do I owe you?” Hux asks after a beat, reaching for his wallet.

“That’s okay,” Ben says hurriedly. “First visit’s on the house,” he lies. Luke wouldn’t know, it’s not like they used any supplies.

“That doesn’t sound right,” Hux says, pulling his wallet out.

“Yeah, okay, I made it up,” Ben admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you’re new in town, and really, it’s okay.”

“I don’t feel right not paying,” Hux says uneasily.

“What are you doing Friday night?” Ben blurts out suddenly. He wants to kick himself when Hux looks at him like he’s lost his mind.

“Uh…nothing. I'm new in town.”

“Okay,” Ben says, inhaling deeply before taking the plunge. “So how about instead of paying me, you go to Snap Wexley’s back-to-school party with me?”

“Like on a date?” Hux asks, eyes narrowing.

“Doesn’t have to be–“ Ben mumbles.

“Okay–“ Hux says at the same time. His lips twitch, one corner rising into a tentative smile. He puts his wallet back in his pocket.

“Really?” Ben asks too quickly, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Hux laughs, picking up Millicent’s box. Ben can hear the cat purring inside.

“Sure,” Hux shrugs. “I’m Hux, by the way,” he adds hurriedly, balancing the box on his hip to reach out his hand, chuckling at the belated introduction.

“Yeah, I know,” Ben says, shaking the offered hand weakly. It’s small and skinny in his oafish hands, and he’s scared he might break it. “We had English together this morning.”

“And Economics this afternoon,” Hux reminds him, taking his hand back. Good thing too, because otherwise Ben was going to continue shaking it until their arms fell off. Hux looks at him expectantly. Ben presses his lips together, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets and awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels. “Usually, the other person gives their name, too.”

“Oh shit,” Ben mutters, one hand slapping over his forehead. “Ben. I’m Ben.”

“Nice to meet you, Ben,” Hux says, laughing as he walks out of the back room. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

Ben locks the door and watches Hux’s sleek black car drive off, his mysterious disappearing wound driven completely out of his mind.

* * *

  
Ben flops down on his bed much later that night with the biggest grin on his face. Despite the day’s exhausting events, his body does not seem to be tired at all. If he were so inclined, he thinks he could run a marathon right now. He attributes this to Hux, and to his own great performance on the field. And to Friday night’s upcoming party.

He lies shirtless on his back, despite the rain assaulting his window and the roof at the moment. As alarming as it is, he can’t bring himself to worry too much about the bite mark on his stomach disappearing because a) his body seems to be running on the same temperature as a furnace lately and he can now sleep without a shirt on, and b) he no longer has to worry about bleeding through his shirts or getting the bite infected.

The concerning thing about all of this, however, is the possibility that he _may_ have imagined the whole thing, which might suggest that he’s losing his mind. But no, that’s not possible. Finn saw the blood on the bandage this morning, too. Maybe he’ll call Luke and ask what large animal had magical healing venom oozing from their teeth so that their victims inexplicably healed from their bites. It seems like such a considerate animal.

He looks out of his window, vaguely registers the partly covered moon, and drifts off to sleep still smiling.

It feels like only a minute has passed when he turns to his side then flips on his stomach and lands on a pile of dried leaves. He wakes up disoriented, desperately trying to place where he is. He sits up, reaching for his windowsill, but ends up touching wet rock. _What the hell?_

Standing up, he looks around him and realizes he’s in the woods. _Is this a dream?_ he wonders, looking down at his half naked body. Thank god he wore shorts to bed. He turns around, looking up at the clear blue sky, and blinks at the morning light. _What the hell is happening to him?_

He starts walking, not really knowing where he’s going since he doesn’t even know which part of the woods he’s in right now, and the hair at the back of his neck stands on end. It feels like someone’s watching him, and he looks over his shoulder but finds nothing. The fog is still thick around him, and he must just be imagining things again. He quickens his pace nonetheless, and keeps checking his surroundings just to be sure.

And then he sees it. To his right, just a few feet away. In the light of day, it’s easier to make out the lupine form watching him, it’s large body covered in thick black fur. It’s balancing on its hind legs, shoulders hunched, front paws close to the ground. Its eyes are bright blue now, for some reason. He’s pretty sure the eyes were red the other night. He starts sprinting when the creature shifts its stance, its front paws now sharing the load of its weight.

The creature breaks into a run, and Ben speeds up. He keeps his eyes on it as they run parallel to each other. He doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just keeps moving forward, and just as the creature’s direction changes to merge with his, Ben spots an opening in the trees to his left. He turns without thinking, losing sight of the creature. It isn’t long before he spots a grey fence, and he pushes his legs that much harder. Grabbing the tops of two posts, he hauls himself over the fence, expecting to land on wet grass. 

Instead, he finds himself submerged in blue water, and he bends his knees and kicks hard when he feels the cold tile against his feet. He breaks the surface and takes deep gasping breaths, looking around him as he treads the water. He’s as disoriented as a cat floundering against giant rapids. There’s a folded lawn umbrella above him, to his left is a hedge, and to his right is...

“Good morning, Coach Lahey,” Ben greets, smiling apologetically. BB’s dad is standing next to their pool, garden hose in hand as he waters the grass. He doesn’t return Ben’s greeting, just watches with his mouth open as Ben swims to the side of the pool and pulls himself out. He gives the former swim coach a feeble wave before running out of their backyard.

* * *

  
It seems to take Friday forever to arrive, but arrive it does. Aside from tonight’s party, Ben is looking forward to this afternoon’s elimination tryouts as well. He will find out today whether or not he’ll be first line once the season officially starts. He’s practically vibrating with excitement.

He’s on his way to the locker room when Caleb Dume grabs him by the collar and slams him against a bank of lockers. Several students start walking faster, not willing to get involved.

“Where are you getting your juice?” Caleb demands.

“What?” Ben asks, seriously confused.

“Where,” Caleb starts, stepping closer to him and getting in his personal space, “are you…getting…your juice?”

 _What the hell does he even care?_ Ben thinks, looking blankly at him.

“Uh…my mom does all the grocery shopping,” he answers uncertainly, and Caleb scowls. He slams Ben against the lockers again, and even though they’re the same height, Ben knows he can’t take the lacrosse captain in a fight. He may be broader than Caleb, but he’s also stupidly clumsy. Plus, Caleb already has his lacrosse stick with him.

“You think you’re funny, Solo?” Caleb is so close now, Ben can feel the captain’s breath on his face. “I know for a fact you’re juicing because there’s no way you’re suddenly playing this good without any chemical help.”

And it finally clicks. It only took Ben about a million years to catch on.

“Oh, you mean _steroids!_ ” He almost slaps his forehead. “I don’t use steroids. Wait…do _you_ use steroids?”

Caleb narrows his eyes and pushes Ben’s shoulder one last time. “Something is up with you, Solo. And I’m going to find out what it is.” He slams his helmet against the locker right next to Ben’s head before walking away.

* * *

  
Finn runs towards the field where most of the team is already gathered. His mostly unused gear is draped all over him, and he stumbles on his feet in his haste to get to Ben before practice starts. He spots him teetering by the bleachers where a small crowd is forming. Ben has a goofy look on his face and Finn follows his line of sight, spotting the new kid walking up the steps to an empty seat. Hux nods his head once at Ben, and he breaks into that stupid grin he’s taken to wearing ever since he first spotted the new guy. Finn rolls his eyes as he approaches Ben, knowing the guy probably won’t even hear what he has to say.

“Dude! I gotta’ tell you something,” Finn says as soon as Ben is within earshot.

“Finn, practice is about to start, I need to get out there,” Ben says, walking away from him.

“This is important, Ben! I overheard my dad talking on the phone. Fiber analysis came back from the lab, they found animal hairs in the body from the woods!” Finn says, attempting to grab Ben’s arm. 

“Finn, I gotta’ go,” Ben says distractedly.

Ben runs off to the field without another word, pulling his helmet on and twirling his short stick in a graceful way Finn has never once associated with his best friend.

“Wait, no, Ben! You’re not gonna’ believe what the animal was!“ Finn shouts after him. “It was a wolf,” he mutters to himself just as Coach Chewie blows his whistle to call for the team’s attention.

“Let’s go, gather 'round,” Chewie says, gesturing with his arms for the team to form a circle around him. Finn jogs to join the group, still attempting to catch Ben’s eye. 

“Okay, you know how this goes,” Chewie continues. “If you don’t make the cut...you’re most likely sitting on the bench for the rest of the season. You make the cut,” he says, smiling like a lunatic. “You play! Your parents are proud.” He grabs Teedo by the front of his helmet and shakes it wildly, as he adds, “Your girlfriends love ya! Huh? Everything else is just, uh…” He turns and smiles at Ben. “Cream cheese. Now get out there, and show mE WHAT YA GOT! COME ON!”

The group erupts into wild shouts, jumping around and cheering as Finn stands still in his spot. He looks around, thinking his classmates have gone insane.

“LET’S GO!” Caleb Dume shouts, bumping his shoulder with Ezra Bridger’s. Most of the guys, including Ben, run to the center of the field, but Finn goes to sit on the bench with the rest of the reserves. He has no delusions of grandeur like Ben.

Finn watches as the guys pass the ball around, not really paying that much attention until somebody passes it to Ben. Ben looks at it in surprise, pausing for a beat, before turning around to start heading for the goal. He doesn’t even get to take two steps before Caleb body checks him and slams him to the ground. Caleb raises his helmet and looks down at Ben with a sneer, then turns and heads for center field.

Even from the bench, Finn can tell Ben is pissed. He’s known Ben his whole life, and he’s practically memorized what Ben looks like angry from every angle. Ben jumps to his feet and runs to crouch in front of Caleb, getting ready for the faceoff. They shove their sticks pocket-first to the ground, one on each side of the ball, and wait, glaring at each other. Arthur, the assistant coach, blows his whistle.

Ben grabs the ball before Caleb can even twitch, leaving the captain looking over his shoulder at him in surprise and anger. Finn watches Ben run down the field, sidestepping every person that attempts to block him, switching his stick to his left hand behind his back when Kaplan gets too close, even twirling counter-clockwise right in front of Mitaka who can only gape at him in awe. He gets close to the goal in no time, and Kaplan, BB and Wexley stand side by side, their knees bent and shoulders squared, to form a three-man wall in front of Ezra that should be impenetrable. 

It _should_ be impenetrable, but without even missing a beat, Ben kicks the ground hard with his right foot right in front of the defenders, tucks his body in and explodes into a side flip, rolling gracefully in the air above the other guys. As soon as he lands, he whips his stick towards the goal, targeting the empty space between Ezra’s legs, who flips his stick down to the ground a fraction of a second too late.

The crowd on the bleachers goes wild, jumping to their feet and screaming at the tops of their lungs. Coach Chewie’s mouth is hanging open, a confused look on his face. Even Ben seems surprised at what he just did, turning around slowly and raising his hands tentatively as some of the guys on the team run up to hug him. Ezra pats him on the back good-naturedly. 

Finn narrows his eyes at Ben, growing more convinced that his best friend is undergoing some serious changes.

“Solo!” Chewie calls from the side of the field, his index finger raised. “Get over here!” As soon as Ben is in front of him, he shouts in his face. “What in god’s name was that? This is a lacrosse field! What, are you trying out for the…gymnastics team?”

“No, Coach,” Ben answers, catching his breath.

“What THE HELL WAS THAT?” Chewie asks again.

“I don’t know, I was just trying to make the shot.” Finn can see Ben fighting desperately to keep his cool.

“Yeah, well you made the shot,” Chewie scoffs, smiling sarcastically. “And guess what?” He takes the longest pause, before slapping Ben’s arm. “You’re starting, buddy!” Ben stares at him, his eyes growing wider as it sinks in. “You made first line!” Chewie grabs Ben’s face, shakes it, then shoves him away before shouting at the other guys to clean up their acts.

Ben stands in his spot, smiling from enormous ear to enormous ear as he looks for Hux in the cheering crowd. Finn knows exactly when Ben spots Hux, who is standing up, clapping his hands, with a small smile on his face. Finn can only scratch at his chin, growing more and more concerned.

* * *

  
Two hours later, Finn is sitting in front of his desk in his room, looking up all sorts of stupid things on his laptop. At least he would have thought they were stupid a few days ago.

He types ‘lycaon’ in the search box and scrolls through the results, clicking on links that look promising, and flicking through disturbing illustrations of men in unbearable pain, some in obvious transition, with hair sprouting from their arms. 

_Lycaon was the cruel king of Arcadia, who attempted to trick Zeus into eating a meal containing meat from a roasted human being, angering the god. Zeus then cursed Lycaon and his sons, turning them into wolves._

Next to the text is a depiction of a naked man with a wolf head.

He types in ‘wolfsbane’ and another long list of results show up.

_WOLFSBANE has long been ascribed with supernatural powers in the mythology relating to werewolves and other lycanthropes, used to either repel them or in some way induce their lycanthropic condition._

Next to the paragraph is a picture of three upright wolf-men gathered around a cauldron, holding purple flowers.

He flips through a book he’d borrowed from the library earlier, titled _History of Lycanthropy_ , finding passages on the effects of silver on werewolves, on what can trigger a werewolf’s transformation, on whether or not a scratch can turn someone.

There are papers scattered all over his desk, as well as littering the floor, and he grabs some of the ones he’d printed earlier. He stares at the the gruesome images, huge wolves with sharp bloody teeth, humans with distorted faces, angry yellow eyes–

“Finn?” Ben knocks on his door, and Finn jumps in his seat, snapping his laptop shut. He opens the door and finds Ben smiling calmly at him.

“Get in! You gotta’ see this thing. I’ve been up all night reading,” he says excitedly, his arms flailing in front of him as Ben watches. “Websites, books, all this information.”

“How much Adderall have you had today?” Ben asks, chuckling as he watches Finn bounce around the room, grabbing papers to show him.

Finn sits on his desk chair and pauses, looking up at him. “A lot,” he answers, shrugging. “Doesn’t matter, okay? Just listen.”

“Is this about the body? Did they find out who did it?” Ben drops his bag on Finn’s double bed and sits next to it.

“No, they’re still questioning people, even Poe Dameron.”

“The guy in the woods we saw the other day?”

“Yes!” Finn says, rubbing his hands over his face exasperatedly. “But that’s not it, okay?”

“Well, what then?” Ben asks.

“Remember the joke from the other day?” Finn chuckles darkly. “Not a joke anymore.” When Ben just looks at him in confusion, he grows even more impatient. “The wolf! The bite in the woods! I started doing all this reading, DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHY A WOLF HOWLS?” He stands up abruptly, sending his chair rolling towards the wall.

“Should I?”

“It’s a signal. Okay? When a wolf is alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard a wolf howling, it means others could have been nearby, maybe even a whole pack of them.”

“A whole pack of wolves?” Ben at least now sounds concerned.

“No,” Finn says, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Werewolves.”

Ben narrows his eyes, his brow furrowing. “Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I’m picking up Hux in an hour!”

Finn puts a hand on Ben’s chest when he gets up from the bed. “I saw you on the field today, Ben. What you did wasn’t just amazing, all right? It was impossible.”

The corner of Ben’s lip twitches, and he looks away from Finn to grab his bag. “Yeah, so I made a good shot.”

“No, you made an _incredible_ shot.” Finn grabs Ben’s backpack and throws it back on the bed. “I mean, the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes!” He’s aware that his whole body might be shaking with adrenaline right now. “People just can’t suddenly do that overnight.”

They stare at each other for a moment, before Finn continues.

“Then there’s the vision, and the senses, and don’t even think I don’t notice you don’t need your inhaler anymo–“

“OKAY, DUDE! I can’t think about this now. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? What, NO!” Finn scrunches up his face in irritation. Why can’t Ben understand this, is he not explaining it right? “The full moon’s tonight! Don’t you get it?”

“What are you trying to do?” Ben asks, his voice finally rising. “I just made first line, I got a date with a guy who I can’t believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. _Why are you trying to ruin it?_ ”

“I’m trying to help,” Finn says flatly, looking up from the paper in his hand. “You’re cursed, Ben.” He suddenly feels extremely sorry for Ben. “And it’s not just that the moon will cause your body to change, it’s also when your bloodlust will be at its peak.”

“Blood lust.” Ben stares at him like he’s lost his mind.

“Yeah, your urge to kill.”

“I’m already starting to feel an urge to kill, Finn.”

“You gotta’ hear this.” Finn drops down on his chair again, turning it around to face his desk so he can grab a book and read from it. “The change can be caused by _anger_ or anything that raises your pulse.” He turns his chair around and gives Ben a knowing look. “All right? I haven’t seen anyone raise your pulse like Hux does. You gotta’ cancel this date.”

He gets up from his chair, stepping behind Ben. He rummages through Ben’s bag and grabs his phone. “You’re gonna’ call her right now.”

“What are you doing?” Ben asks, irritably, watching him closely.

“I’m canceling the date,” he says matter-of-factly, scrolling through Ben’s contacts.

“NO! GIVE IT TO ME!” Ben shouts, one hand grabbing the phone from Finn, the other landing on his chest and slamming him against the wall by his desk. Ben raises his clenched fist, ready to punch him, and Finn’s eyes widen. He can’t remember the last time Ben got violent around him. Sure, the guy gets angry a lot, but he never hurts Finn. Ben’s eyes turn livid, his fist shakes, then he growls under his breath and flips Finn’s desk chair over instead.

Finn flinches away from Ben as soon as he’s released. This seems to snap him back to his senses, and he looks at Finn apologetically as he takes deep breaths.

“I’m s-…I’m sorry,” Ben mutters, as if in a daze.

They look away from each other, Ben backing away from Finn and grabbing his bag. 

“I gotta’ go get…ready for that,” Ben stammers. He looks at Finn, then quickly looks away again. “For that party.”

Finn is still glued to the wall, his shoulders raised defensively, eyes staring ahead as Ben walks to the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ben turning back to him.

“I’m sorry,” Ben says again, sincerely.

Finn finally turns his head to look at him as he walks out of the room. He bumps his head against the wall as soon as Ben is gone then pushes off of it to pick up his chair. It turns around as he steadies it and his heart stops.

Three long and very deep gashes have been scratched against the back of the chair.

* * *

  
   
   
   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got longer than I had originally intended. I was going to include the date, but I didn't want to push the word count to 10k. Hahaha!

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://the-fluff-awakens.tumblr.com).


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